April 4, 2021

#06: Okay, I’ll admit it: I stare at myself on Zoom calls.

Video chats and conferencing is nothing new. In fact, I can recall my first experiences with it. A lifetime ago, I was an “Apple Guy” working at one of their stores. I had an iMac and a whole host of friends who also used Mac OS X (Panther or Tiger I believe). Installed on all our computers was iChat (which has evolved into the modern day iMessage). Back then, we had the ability to start a video chat call with each other, and for the time, it was really something else; a new way to “hangout” without physically being there.

Since that time, applications like Skype, Facebook Messenger, FaceTime, and more have become common applications on all our devices. If you are reading these words, chances are video chats and conferences are nothing new to you. (You may have even Zoomed with loved ones this Easter morning!) With the COVID-19 pandemic occurring, video chats and meetings have infiltrated personal and professional life. Over the last year, I took gym classes on Zoom, attended weddings on it, participated in graduate classes on it, and even teach my own classes with video conferencing tools. As platforms like Zoom become ubiquitous, I learned something about myself, and it’s not something I really want to admit to you.

Okay, I’ll admit it: I stare at myself on Zoom calls.

Once I realized this, I started to think I had a problem. Was I narcissistic? Was I self-obsessed? “Yes” to either question does not make me feel particularly good. I would even consciously minimize my little window, so I could not see myself. However, even that felt wrong. This little, dark secret is something I keep in the back of my mind during every video conference I attend, and it’s something I’m consciously reminded of as my eyes ping pong between the meetings presenter and my little square box at the corner of the screen.

As the world shut down last year, I subscribed to the print version of Wired magazine. The magazine focuses on technology, business, and lifestyle. It’s not a publication that I read sequentially or even cover-to-cover. (Some months, I only read one or two stories in it.) I usually go to start at the table of contents, scan the article titles, and leapfrog around to the stories that sounds most appealing. When I received the April 2021 edition earlier this week, a specific title practically yelled out to me: “Cloud Support: Why Do I keep Staring at Myself on Zoom?”

With my eyebrows raised and my interest peaked, I immediately turned to the page. Early in the “advice” column, author Megan O’Gieblyn puts my narcissistic thoughts to bed: “Fear of narcissism, at least in the clinical sense, is self-disqualifying: Only those who don’t fit the definition worry that they do.” Phew! So, my staring problem isn’t related to some deep-rooted narcissistic tendencies. Then, what does it have to deal with?

Ms. O’Gieblyn goes on to detail that the “self” we encounter on platforms like Zoom is not the same we see everywhere else. “The self that confronts you on these platforms is not the static, poised image you’re accustomed to seeing in the bathroom vanity or the selfie view of your phone camera — a blank slate onto which you can project your fantasies and self-delusions.” When we take pictures, we are often not seeing how we exist in the real world. We are too busy finding the perfect filter and making the perfect duck face to realize that this is not who we are. In Zoom meetings, we are confronted with “the self who speaks and laughs, gestures and reacts” in real, day-to-day life.

I can’t speak for everyone, but this is the reason why I’m so focused on myself. I am usually Zooming with people that I see and talk to in the normal world, and because I interact with them in real life, I know what their organic image is. (It’s also why I can instantly tell when someone applies a filter.) When we engage in conversation, we only get the first-person view. Only with technology’s assistance, do we get to see our organic self. With part of my brain occupied on myself, I can’t imagine what that’s doing to the integrity of my (and our) conversations. However, that is a different topic for a different day.

So, now you know my dark secret. I bet if your honest with yourself, you’ll admit you having a staring problem too.

Thanks for reading.